


The Rabbit

by PlagueClover



Category: Original Work
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Easter, Easter Eggs, Flash Fic, Gen, Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23612827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlagueClover/pseuds/PlagueClover
Summary: Remy is a vampire. A hungry one. And that growling stomach of his leads him to waltz right through the Easter festivities of a vampire hunter.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5
Collections: The Abyss's April 2020 Flash Fiction Compendium





	The Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> This was a flash fic I threw together in a half hour for a discord server collection, so please don't expect a masterpiece! It has been very lightly edited.

Remy could see the rabbit through the window. It was why he stopped his carriage on that narrow cobblestone street. Why he stepped out into the spitting rain.

The sounds of laughter and music floated through the chilly night air. Gaslight burned brightly along the stone path through the grass up to the front steps where the French doors hung wide open. An inviting beacon beyond which Remy could see the revelry of drunken fools and twirling skirts dancing the night away. 

If he were alive, the smells of a feast would have been just as powerful a temptation, but as such they were more of a stench on his adapted senses. Yet his mouth still watered as he moved through the open doors, and his eyes landed again on that rabbit. 

A man. Small in stature and so slender and delicate he put even the prettiest of girls in that house to shame. Beneath the rabbit masquerade mask, Remy spied a pair of plump lips, so pink he could practically see the blood pumping through them. 

What a delicious little snack that rabbit would be. 

The rabbit plucked a glass of wine from a tray and with a flourishing bow at a young lady, he bid her a delightful time, and disappeared off down a hallway. 

Perhaps to a more secluded place, Remy hoped. He moved to follow, but a hand clapped onto his chest to stop him. 

“Sir,” a practiced voice said before Remy could decide whether or not to rip that hand off. “I’m afraid a mask is required.”

Remy’s hungry eyes rolled towards the man stationed by the door. And there, on a table was a vast array of glittering masquerade masks. 

Without a word, he snatched up a wolf mask with glittery white fangs, and slipped it on over his face. It seemed apt. And as that impudent hand granted him entry, he prowled his way towards the hallway. 

“Sir?” The doorman called after him. “Would you like me to take your cloak?” 

“I shall not remain long,” Remy answered in a murmur so deep, he could hear the answering shiver on the doorman’s breath. 

He stalked through the hall. The rabbit had vanished, so he slowed by each door to peek into rooms. Each filled with people. With laughter. With groups crowded around tarot cards, with tables full of coloured water and eggs for dipping. Someone was chattering about a hunt for them in the morning. It would be a party for the precious little ankle-biters too young to enjoy this night’s revelry. 

Other rooms were locked, but by the sounds of grunting and soft, rhythmic cries, they contained no mysteries Remy cared to uncover. 

He was halfway through before he spotted the rabbit. Not alone. In a parlour by a fireplace, engaged in a fiery argument with another man over something petty, no doubt. A piece of wood was in his wildly gesturing hand. 

“Why in blazes would you cut them in half?!” The rabbit hissed. 

The man across from him - a gangly creature in a lizard mask, stared at another piece of wood in his hand. “We have more now, though.”

“We don’t need more! One is all it takes! This is blunt now! We can hardly use a blunt stake to...” The rabbit trailed off as his eyes darted to the cloaked wolf in his doorway. 

Remy closed the door behind him.

“Oh dear,” the rabbit breathed. When Remy stepped forward, the rabbit stepped back and shouted at the lizard, “Where’s the other half?!”

The lizard dove over the settee. The rabbit tried to dart away, but Remy caught him by the throat and slammed him against the wall, so hard he squeaked. A delicious sound. Far sweeter than that blasted fiddle music assaulting his senses. 

He dipped his head in. Could smell the fear in the rabbit’s sweat. Could feel the blood pumping beneath his tightening fingertips. He opened his mouth. His dripping fangs grazed the sensitive flesh of the rabbit’s neck. 

Something flew through the air. And just before his teeth sunk in, a wooden stake plunged into his back. Pain shot through his ribs. He jerked away with a low, frustrated growl and whipped around to see the man in the lizard mask holding a crucifix and fumbling with a glass vial of water. 

Remy’s eyes narrowed. Blinding pain shot through his ribs with every breath he took. 

“He’s not dying!” The lizard screamed. 

“I’m getting the others!” The rabbit made a break for the door. 

“I’m immortal,” Remy murmured. With a powerful swat of his hand, he knocked the crucifix out of his way. 

The lizard finally got the cork out. He sprayed it across Remy’s face, making Remy stop for a moment in surprise. Then Remy’s eyes narrowed, and he lunged. 

“And I’m not Catholic,” he growled before he sunk his teeth into the bastard’s throat and ripped the bloody jugular out. 

  
  



End file.
